Castlevania Creature of the Flesh
by Sorcerer's Familiar
Summary: One night when the moon is full, a single mortal seeks out a demon and the strange history of how a young woman, betrayed by humanity, became one of the Vampire Lord's most terrible servants.


I do not own Castlevania in any format or any of its related characters or copyrights. These are the property of Konami and the relevant corporate bodies.

Castlevania

Creature of the Flesh

"I wonder why you seek me out?" the creature's voice was melodic as she approached; her tone one of a subtle yet indelible carnality. Removing its self from the darkness of the room's shadows, you can observe her in full as she appraises you with eyes almost as deep and dark as the night sky. From the room's window streams pale lunar light; an illumination which reveals the she-demon in her nocturnal glory. She is pale but beautiful; her proportions are those of the divine with small feet, sporting talons, leading to long toned legs. Her hips are indelibly feminine with her modesty hidden by black satin. Her arms reflect her legs in their well proportioned appearance with petite hands from which tapering nails extend. The demon's voluptuous bosom is contained within a bodice, though revealing enough to show a thin but toned abdomen. Two wings, unmistakably infernal in appearance are folded behind her. Your inquiring gaze is then inexorably drawn to her visage. Her countenance is flawless with full, though not excessive, lips as high cheeks lead to dark eyes and a crest of long dark, almost, red locks. This devil-goddess is crowned with a ringlet of intertwined roses. Crossing her arms, her expression one of reserved interest she approaches you until you feel a high backed chair behind you. Slipping into its leathery embrace, you lean back as she lowers herself to look closer; your rapid heart beat punctuating her descent as she comes almost unbearably close to your own transfixed visage. Her lips seem wet in the poor light as you notice the strange nature of her gaze. Her eyes, though seemingly human, are exceptionally dark green; surpassing even the most refined emerald in their enticing depths. Finally she stops and runs her dark gaze over you; her posture sensual yet not pugnacious. During this she twitches her small nose once or twice, like a creature trying to identify its prey by scent. She slowly raises a clawed hand to your face after her deliberations, though not to attack but to feel. You almost whimper as she does so which elicits a strangely disarming response from the succubus.

"It's all right, my sweet. I'm not going to harm you; I only mean to feel." She responds, her voice soothing as you feel her soft touch against your face. Running her long digits around your warm cheek, she eventually withdraws her touch and stands before you; her lips curling into a soft smile as her eyes seem to delve into your own and perhaps beyond. After her investigation is complete she speaks once more; her voice the same sensuous contralto as she grows more curious.

"Hmm…….not a hunter; not a warrior or a slayer of our kind, and yet you seek me out in this great bastion of my lord. I wonder why? You do not desire my flesh or the soft caress of my lips against yours………then why have you come this far?"

Your answer is tentative; your voice suffused with restrained fear as you articulate the reason that has brought you to the dark recesses of the vampire lord's castle, alone on this night. Your request is not one of the flesh but the intellect as she quietly listens; her eyes the only indicators of interest in an alabaster face. Your question ends and a protracted silence took hold, followed by a trepidation that wraps its self around your mind and heart. The wait is almost agonising as she ponders the nature of your question behind a dispassionate face. Then she responds, her laugh soft and almost warm as your fear diminishes, but only just.

"You desire knowledge of how I came to be, mortal? My, what an odd request you make." In several delicate steps she stands by the window, its view running up the various towers and spires of Castlevania to the castle keep and the clock tower which arcs out into another where the vampire lord himself holds court. You turn in the chair and watch. She looks out and up, her head elevated as if she is watching something distant. At last she turns, her visage bearing a small but amiable smile with eyes that seem like two points of brilliance in the soft light.

"Usually I do not cater to such strange requests from mortals but you have come so far into this bastion, navigated its tricks and traps to seek me out here in this tower. I believe such tasks, given by intellectual desires should be rewarded on a night such as this." She levitates up and reclines, crossing one toned leg over the other as she leisurely clasps her hands in her lap. Her eyes once again focus on you as she smiles, then begins; the dark emerald depths almost tempting you into their recesses.

"In your deduction, you are correct, mortal. Of all the demons, spirits and monstrosities that call this place home, I was not born in the dark depths of the underworld but on this earth. Once so very long ago, before even my lord took power here, I was a human. A child of humanity that smiled and laughed. Felt pain and pleasure from the world around me. I could weep and feel love like most of my former species…………but love, it seems, was to take me to the very brink of destruction."

She is silent momentarily; he expression one of possible contemplation as she reclines further before, with a soft sigh, she continues with her tale.

"I was born in a village to the south of the Carpathians and east of the Mures river. For a village it was large, but was quite close as most of its families lived and worked beside one another in service of their lord. My childhood was quiet; a time punctuated with all you might expect of a girl in a close- knit village. It was an innocent time for me and as I grew I adopted all the responsibilities and obligations made upon myself as did all of my contemporaries, but it was a few months following my twentieth birthday that I became a victim to my heart's desires and fell I in love. The one who became my lover was the eldest son of a local landowner; a handsome young man who, it seems, spotted me retuning to town and was besotted."

A faint smile dancing around her lips, she looks up and, with almost curious eyes, looks upon you in the leathery recess of the chair. She chuckles as she speaks once more.

"You must think this the stereotypical tragic romance between two young lovers, but please understand that in those now distant years it was a maiden's dream to fall in love with such a figure as he was; handsome, dutiful and vibrant striding past atop his mount. Our courtship started as summer began, though, with a prelude to the disaster that would overwhelm me as I became aware that he was expected to marry another of his class and yet he vowed that he would overcome this bondage to love me. During this time I suffered from a great wave of guilt; a feeling that saw me pray more often and yet I felt thoroughly wicked as I did so, but I digress……….Our love went from strength to strength in those seemingly endless days of summer; warm days were spent with thoughts of him and my nights in his company. I can remember even now our embrace under a great oak as the sun became twilight with faded oranges and magnificent reds finally welcoming the first stars. On such occasions we lay under this tree for what seemed like several small eternities sometimes speaking or merely taking pleasure in each others company. He also constantly asserted that I was beautiful, a minor thing to your modern sensibilities, but I was embarrassed; my cheeks seeming to catch fire as he recited poems which honoured my supposed beauty."

You see her pause; her contemplation apparent as she seems to gaze upon her hand now rested upon her lap. She twists it and turns it in her scrutiny before returning to you with a small smile.

"…………You may call me deceitful if I said that this form was not always my own, for you see that I was not born into the world with great beauty. My loves future wife possessed these qualities that poets and writers through the ages have described as beauty, but I was not. Pretty, certainly, but not beautiful. It also would come to pass that in that quiet place with the faintest scent of flowers and caress of the wind through the leaves that he and I gave seat to earthly pleasures. Several times in that ill-fated summer we allowed our carnal desires to manifest as we allowed an intimacy only two lovers may know. As we lay spent in each others arms, I would often lay my had in his lap as he slipped into sleep and think of our possible future together as husband and wife when the time came to resist his father's opinion of the right young woman. I dreamt of us and my heart ached for him as my very blood seemed to throb in my veins with a strange new euphoria. The weeks past and my love even gave me a gift of a single rose; its rarity and expense seemed profound to me as he gave it under our meeting place. Holding it in a small piece of cloth, I marvelled at the paradox as row of thorns gave way to soft and fragile petals the colour of blood. And yet…….." Her voice becoming almost wistful as she dwelled on this symbol of love; continuing as she did before, except with an air of palpable foreboding.

"……………..and yet as our summer came to a close I began to understand the delicate and fragile nature of our love. What we had was full and ripe, like an apple that has grown rich on the bounty of summer, but with it was a new precariousness. Our apple, though full, was only connected to its tree by a small and thin branch and as such, it would only take a gust of wind to break that link and the fruit would fall to earth. But……." She continued as her crimson lips twisted into a almost cruel smile."………the gust of wind did come eventually."

"It was during the autumn that we were discovered by a member of his father's household; a young servant girl was passing close to our usually private place and saw our lips meet. It was shortly after that he was summoned back to his father who was now furious with his son's actions. It was with a profound fear and anxiety that I awaited my love as he promised to endure this and return to me but, as I soon discovered to my horror, I was mistaken greatly. Instead of my love returning, several of his father's retainers took me into custody as I was taken back to the village to be incarcerated. For it seems that my love had betrayed me when his father threatened to disinherit him and thus my one and only love as a mortal was rendered as insubstantial as air when I discovered the reason for my unexpected arrest: Witchcraft."

"My love had responded to his father's threat by trying to save his standing before his family and had accused me of being a witch. In the short time I spent in the small cell beneath my love's home I came to dread what may happen next. The church had taken an intolerant stance against those believed to be practising any form of magic and had adopted suitably cruel means of deterring anyone who would consider practising it: the flame. I did not dwell on anger or indignation for my former love as I reflected on my probable fate. My cheeks stung with silent tears as I knelt in the confines of my prison and prayed for salvation; prayed that my love would become resolute and oppose his father once again; prayed that this terrible accusation would be seen to be untrue by the town's people. But my prayers went unanswered as I found to my terror the next day. My former love's father openly accused me of witchcraft in the presence of the village priest who, though I had been acquainted with since my girlhood, commended him and consented to my imprisonment until the local magistrate arrived without questioning the accuser. My attempts to assert innocence were ignored amidst cries of most horrible names; things I had not considered in my wildest fantasies calling someone; things that cut my heart like a blade as former friends turned on me while others called for my execution as punishment for my "sorcery".

"I was returned to my cell and there I was almost consumed with a terror that shook the very foundations of my soul. I was torn between fear and trepidation as I awaited the arrival of the provincial magistrate. The days I spent in that cell were filled with the imagined horrors that may well await me if I refused the allegation and the agony of the punishment that I could receive when he made his judgement. I often prayed during these times; it was my sole respite from the unspoken horrors of my mind and the agony of my soul. Finally, after two days, the magistrate arrived and a court of sorts was held. I was dragged in bindings to the magistrate and my accuser. It was there that he, with his family nearby, accused me of being a witch; of casting wicked and lascivious spells upon him to in pursuit of carnality……….of being a creature of the flesh. The wretched tale of our love was laid out as I was said to have led him from his virtuous and chaste path to marriage. I could only repeat my innocence but the situation did not favour my defence; his deception, vows of love and sincerity were dismissed as witchcraft. The vindication of his accusation came when I was searched by the court's attendants for the "Devil's Mark", a small abrasion on my body that was a supposed sign of my pact with dark forces. The court pointed to a small imperfection on my back as evidence of it and, as a pregnant silence followed on the second day, the magistrate pronounced the sentence. Looking upon those events, perhaps I should be grateful. The court found me guilty of witchcraft, but since I had been a loved member of the community, the sentence of burning was reduced to banishment from the village; the tacit understanding that I was to succumb to the cold grip of winter. My family were present and avoided my gaze; my mother and father casting their eyes to the ground as I caught sight of them. Then I was taken from that place to begin my sentence. I was blind folded as I was put on horse back, followed by the sound of many hooves and the wind speeding past my ears. After sometime the party came to a halt and I was roughly dismounted, bonds cut then left, the sound of hooves becoming distant before I had the courage to remove the piece of cloth from my eyes. Casting weary eyes around, I found myself in a unfamiliar forested area; the ground covered in recently fallen leaves from the abundant trees and the failing light creating a cold, desolate feeling that almost forced me to tears. For several hours I sat by the bare trunk of a nearby tree, reflecting on the terrible chain of events that led to this most loathsome of fates; to be undone by the elements as winter swung its annual scythe through the land and myself……….what would become of me?...a thin, cold and worn echo of humanity that would be picked over by birds and wolves? I did not know where I was going, but I slowly rose and made my way north and, probably to my death."

"My first thought was of any nearby towns, but that was to no avail. The nearest town as I walked north was Jova, nestled high in the Carpathians and six days travel by horse back. Dismissing this reluctantly I continued to walk. I wondered why? I had no reason to; cold, wolves or starvation would finish me and yet I found myself going forward as if compelled by some ineffable force or perhaps an alternative to the madness that threatened to overwhelm me. I can not truly recall how long I pushed forward……..a few days perhaps, with the only nourishment that of a few handfuls of water from a thin stream. Night turned to day and then night again, the wind and cold seemed to cut my flesh and the bone beneath as hunger and despair nawed at my mind before the forest began to gradually thin out and I beheld a lake with the first peaks of the Carpathians looming high on the horizon. I approached the silvery water with a strange mixture of relief and resignation. Here, in the beauty of this placid and cold place, I would find oblivion. I almost welcomed it. Sitting down between two trees, I muttered a small prayer to Heaven and closed my eyes."

The Succubus stops her exposition and a pregnant silence descends as you watch this fascinating creature look towards the window then, with a knowing smile, continues; her tone questioning.

"Do you dream much, mortal? I do. Dreams sometimes project our darkest desires and fears; free of conscience or morality, a secret place where madness and sanity embrace each other as kin and the dreamer can find release. Beside that lake as the sun descended behind the Carpathians and the shadows grew long, I dreamt of all that had befallen me and my mind turned to retribution. I had no hope of ever realising it, but I indulged myself as I fantasised about exacting a terrible vengeance on he who had condemned me to this fate. I had prayed for deliverance from him and those who had desired my death and, in a way, my silent prayer was answered. Waking, I discovered that I had not as yet passed from this earth and looked over the lake; its slivery face turned red from the last light of a vanished sun and I suddenly knew that I was not alone. Slowly turning to face the opposite tree, I beheld a remarkable figure. He was of noble stature, bedecked in crimson armour with a high collared cloak that fell behind him like a bloody waterfall. His skin was alabaster with eyes that were as cold and hard as precious stones; his hair a crown of red locks that cascaded around his visage. Sitting their in the silence, I knew that the man standing before me was not mortal but a creature of legend; an unholy mixture of demon and human. A vampire."

"The nobleman introduced himself as Walter Bernhard and a memory flickered in the recesses of my mind. As a young girl, I had often heard legends of a place far in the Carpathians where, beyond a forest, demons and monsters dwelt in a great fortress under the lord of the vampires. But now my blood seemed turgid as superstition and legend were made flesh before me. I was still as he spoke but my body failed me and soon the world swam with colour before fading into darkness. But, as you can see, that was not the end. I awoke in a small room rich in furnishings and, seated beside a vibrant fireplace, was mysterious benefactor. He told me that he had followed me for the past two days and had known of my banishment. He spoke of his understanding for my situation; rejected by my loved ones, judged to be impure and repulsed by all humanity. As I listened and we came to know of each others grievances he spoke of a solution to the transgressions I had suffered; a proposition is you will. My oath of allegiance to the dark powers would be rewarded with an opportunity to exact my vengeance on those most befitting it. My love, Lord Bernhard told me, had damned me as a witch and a creature of the flesh, thus his accusation would be his downfall. I would become a daughter of Lilith, a demoness that preyed on the energies invoked by the lust and passion of men and, perhaps, women; a succubus. I contemplated it then, with only a flicker of pain for those ones whom I had loved, I accepted his proposition."

"Our pact, mortal," she intoned as she clasped her hands once again," was a sensation unlike any other, the feeling of power; of ancient energies flowing along every fibre of one's body and saturating my soul was," she smirked," not without growing pains. Once invoked, the pact began to warp and change me into a more fitting form. My flesh shifted under newly pale skin as I grew slightly and my body warped; my reiments tore as claws elongated from toes, hips becoming fuller and my bosom grew voluptuous. My visage shifted and my ears became longer. The faint caress against the base of my back told me that even my hair had grown; my dark locks now full with a new lustre. This most dark of metamorphoses climaxed in a searing pain that seemed to travel up my spine and into my shoulder blades. The sound of tearing flesh and the first twitch of membrane was punctuated my rebirth as a succubus. My new Lord allowed for several days in which I would gain full control of my new attributes before retuning to the place which had seen me exiled."

You sit perfectly still as she speaks. Her eyes turn to you and for a moment the only sound is that of your breath in the silent room. She speaks softly; her eyes measuring your anticipation." You are enthralled, mortal? Does my little tale so interest that your eyes gleam in this soft light or do you hunger for its inevitable horror? Very well then, I shall continue. I had become what you see and I now desired retribution. I hungered for the soul and life force of he who had damned me to a lonesome and horrible demise and thus, that evening, in my new form as a succubus, I departed this great castle and headed south in a freezing sky. My speed bore me over the places that I had stumbled past as a condemned mortal until I saw the familiar sight of my former home. I landed silently and darted across its roof tops intent upon seeing a certain place again. Unseen, I found myself looking upon my former home and within the sleeping forms of my parents. I vanished and re-

Materialised within the house and silently entered their room. I stood before their vulnerable forms and considered my vengeance. Their deaths could be excruciating or painless and silent, perhaps I would enter their dreams and tear their souls from the flesh. I advanced and yet as I prepared to devour their souls I wavered; they had been silent as I was tried and yet they had been victims of a system that endured no dissent. Would I destroy them or spare those that had given me life? I agonised only briefly before my hand was forced. In my contemplation, my mother had awoken and her muffled scream had woken my father. I vanished moments later and yet I still wonder what they saw that night. A shadowy winged demon or a vestige of their daughter in my transformed self? As I made my way to my former love's house I pondered if, somewhere in my apostate soul, their still laid some shred of humanity. It was a curious feeling but one that subsided as I landed on the roof of my intended target. He lay in the marriage bed alone; his wife downstairs and preparing to retire for the night. Simply by running my fingers through my locks they changed to the dark fair colour of his wife's and, ni the blink of an eye, I was lying beside him. It was then I realised my revenge. He turned and in the faint moonlight found something sharp lying on his pillow. Sitting up he examined it and I savoured the puzzlement as he realise what it was. He uttered the name of his wife in a weary voice and asked why a rose was lying on his pillow. I turned and the flower fell from his still hands. His eyes grew wide as he struggled to get up as his mind swam with horrific thoughts.

His struggles were momentary as I was on him instantly with vines seeping out of my back to hold him down. His struggles ceased as I lowered myself, wings unfurled, down to him. He didn't scream as his face twisted with a terrible look of recognition as he looked past the changes and saw the woman he damned. I whispered to him that in some way he was right in his accusation before I prepared to cut his soul out. In those moments time seemed to almost stop as I embraced him as I had done under our secret place. I gave unto him ecstasy and agony in equal measure as I employed my new powers in his destruction, savouring the feeling of his mind shattering under the delicious irony of the words that he spat at me to save himself. Moments later he lay spent; his body lifeless after I tasted his lips for a final time and devoured the soul that I had so coveted. Smiling as I sat back, the sound of steps and a gasp brought my attention around to his wife who had walked up and who now collapsed against the opposite wall; her mind swimming with new horror as she beheld me and my eyes, now two points of emerald light in the darkness. Her mind shattered as eyes became transfixed and she started to scream. I vanished and her screams filled the night as I returned to this castle. It interested me to know that she had descended into madness in the days after I had exacted my vengeance on that moonlight night. That, my mortal friend is how I came to call this place home. You know the rest of the twisting and enigmatic history of this great, dark bastion.

The room is suffused with a pregnant silence as the Succubus concludes her tale and you settle back into the chair; a wave of new found anxiety rising in your mind. She lowers her self and gracefully approaches, her eyes seeming to gleam with a strange emerald light until she smiles knowingly. Your trepidation rises, fear and myriad of thoughts dance around as she contemplates her next action. She speaks, lowering herself once again and runs her hand across your cheek.

"You have my gratitude. Your audience has been appreciated and I believe that your desires have been satisfied but now we have an interesting situation, you and I. You have been most gracious but I cannot allow you to depart without my lord's consent and thus I give you a choice; your humanity and the pangs of my appetite or darkness in the service of my lord? The moon is full, mortal, and the land is cloaked in dark wonder; a wonder you may feel soon, though do not take to long in your deliberations lest your soul seem more palatable………"

The End

Hi and thanks for reading my idea for a Castlevania fan fic. Reviews and marginally constructive flames are always appreciated. Also, please do not think of this as a "self-insert". I never created it to be but rather an insight into a possible history of one of the series most dark, calculating and enigmatic characters. Thanks and have a nice Halloween '05

Yours sincerely

Sorcerers Familiar.


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